Surprise
by Geek for God
Summary: Tony invites the Avengers to stay at his house for the night, not knowing the consequences of that decision until it's too late. No slash, no romance, and not a Crack!fic.
1. Chapter 1

**This may seem like a Crack!fic at first, but don't worry, it's not. It actually has a serious part. And, as I said in the summary, I have no slash or pairings or any romance in this. Just awesome bromance, because the world needs more of it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. It belongs to Marvel.**

**Surprise**

The world had been saved by the Avengers.

Again.

For, like, the twenty-second time.

Tony collapsed on his couch, his eyes sliding shut as soon as his head hit the armrest. His whole body was sore, and he just wanted to get some rest.

Suddenly a loud crash interrupted him from his thoughts. Without even bothering to open his eyes, he said in an annoyed tone of voice, "That sounded expensive."

There were a few seconds of silence before someone – had to be Clint – cleared their throat nervously. "Uh – sorry."

Tony was already starting to regret his decision to let the rest of the Avengers stay at his house for the next couple of days. They didn't really have anywhere else to go, and Pepper was on a business trip that didn't end for another week, so Tony had thought, _What the heck?_

"JARVIS, was it expensive?" he asked in an almost whiny voice.

"Define 'expensive', sir," the computer's voice instantly replied.

Tony groaned and stuffed his face in a pillow. "Never mind," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I don't want to know."

He heard his teammates all pile into the elevator, the fact that they were silent proving how exhausted they all were.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Tony," Steve said.

Tony didn't lift his face from the pillow. "What?" he snapped.

"Which room is mine?"

Tony waved his hand in what he hoped was a dismissive gesture. "The first one you see." Then he realized what he had just said. "No, wait, I take it back. That's my room. There are a lot upstairs."

Tony could hear the blonde hero shuffle slowly away. _Finally,_ he thought contentedly, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

-T-H-I-S- -I-S- -A- -L-I-N-E-

The next morning found Tony sprawled out on the couch, Steve curled up in a ball on the other side of the room, Natasha sitting up in her bed pulling on her black leather boots, Clint counting his arrows in his room, Bruce buried in his covers so only the top of his head stuck out, and Thor taking up an entire king-sized bed, snoring his heart away.

"Sir."

Tony jerked up into a sitting position, a small yelp emitting from his throat. Then his eyes narrowed, and he allowed himself to fall back on the couch. "JARVIS," he said, willing himself to be patient, "if you don't have a good reason for waking me up at six in the freakin' morning, I will . . ." he frowned, trying to come up with a good threat for the computer. Which was hard, since his brain didn't start functioning properly until at least noon. "I'll – I'll unplug you," he finally finished lamely.

"Sir, a package was left for you at the door," JARVIS said, seemingly unfazed by the pathetic threat.

Tony grumbled something incoherently and was about to raise himself from the couch when he caught sight of Steve sleeping on the floor, using his shield as a pillow. "What the-" he stopped and shook his head. "We'll discuss this later," he said to the still-slumbering form of Steve.

"I don't believe he heard you, sir," JARVIS informed his master.

"Shut up," Tony said, not really paying attention. The hardwood floor looked like a really uncomfortable thing to be sleeping on. Then he glanced at the armchair to his right, where a small throw blanket was currently residing.

-A-N-O-T-H-E-R- -L-I-N-E-

Steve blearily opened his eyes and yawned. Wow. He hadn't slept that long in . . . a long time.

Well. Not counting his frozen slumber.

He started to stretch his arms but winced in pain. Sleeping on the floor was not as comfortable as it sounded.

Eh. He'd had worse.

That's what he had thought last night, a few minutes after the team had entered that strange capsule embedded in the wall and the doors had closed. A little freaked out, but too tired to do anything about it, he'd gone over to the stairs that stretched out of his sight.

His aching body had screamed, _No, I can't do it_.

He hadn't been about to argue, so he'd simply thrown himself in the corner of the room Tony had been in.

He started to sit up when he realized that a small blanket had been placed on his body. He didn't remember grabbing one . . . .

Tony walked into the room, a large brown box in his arms. "Ah, Sleeping Beauty has awakened."

Steve ignored the comment. "Did you put this blanket on me?"

Tony glanced up, looking mildly surprised. "Hm?"

Steve stood up, holding the blanket out in front of him. "Did you put this on me?"

The billionaire placed the cardboard box on his bar table. "No. You had it when I woke up. Why?"

"Er, nothing," the blonde said, suddenly feeling very awkward. He folded the blanket and set it on the couch before turning to walk upstairs.

Tony's voice stopped him. "Steve, why the heck were you sleeping on the floor?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushed as he turned back to face Tony. "I, uh, was too tired to go up the stairs."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm always too tired to go up the stairs. That's why I have an elevator." At Steve's questioning glance, he shook his head. "Okay, kid, come here. See this metal door in the wall? Good. Now, this little button right here . . . ."

Once Tony was confident about Steve's knowledge of elevators and had made sure he made it to the next floor, he walked back to the package lying on his countertop. He was super curious about it. He hadn't ordered anything, and he knew for a fact Pepper hadn't, either. The Avengers hadn't known they were staying at his house until last night, and JARVIS . . . was a computer.

So. It was a suspicious, random package. His favorite.

He was just about to tear it open when Clint poked his head in the room, his bright eyes taking in everything in the room. When his gaze fell on the unopened cardboard box he gasped. "Tony, man!" he shouted, running over and grabbing the package. "You didn't tell us you bought us a present!"

Tony shot a withering look in the archer's direction before wrenching the box from his hands. "I didn't get you a present, you moron. Someone delivered this to _me._"

"Nuh-uh," Clint said, shaking his head. "It _clearly_ says that it's for the Avengers."

Tony turned the package on its side, for the first time seeing the words in large, black letters: _The Avengers._

Oh. He started to open it again, but Clint grabbed his wrist. "Dude, you can't open it without everyone else!"

Suddenly Natasha was right behind Clint, peering over his shoulder. "He's right, you know," she said.

"Gah!" Tony shouted and stumbled back. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. "Okay, next person to give me a mini heart attack dies."

Natasha smirked.

Tony scowled. "Fine. I'll get everyone else up." Then he walked to the middle of the living room and placed the box down. "JARVIS, wake Bruce and Thor, and get them and Steve down here immediately. It's an emergency."

A few seconds later, a huge roar shook the building. "CURSE YOU, INVISIBLE BEING! SHOW YOURSELF!"

"Thor's up," Clint remarked, his lips quirked up in a smile.

The elevator dinged, and the three Avengers turned to see a haggard-looking Bruce and an alert Steve step into the living room. Bruce straightened his formerly crooked glasses and tried to comb his tangled black hair with his fingers. "JARVIS said there was a -" he yawned loudly. "An emergency?"

Tony nodded. "I'll tell you when Thor gets here."

Loud footsteps echoed throughout the room as Thor tromped down the stairs. "What is it, my friends?" he asked in his usual, overly-loud voice.

Tony clapped his hands and rubbed them together with something akin to glee shining in his eyes. "Apparently, a package arrived for us today."

Bruce frowned. "That's not possible, though. No one knew we were staying at your house."

Tony jabbed a finger at the scientist excitedly. "Exactly. That's why," he explained with a flourish, spinning around to face the box, "I need you all down here. So we can figure out why it's here and what it is."

Natasha wrinkled her nose. "I thought you were actually going to open it."

Tony shot her a look. "I _am_. I just want to see what everyone thinks about it, first."

Bruce knelt down and studied the ordinary-looking box carefully while Steve glared at Tony. "I thought you said it was an _emergency_."

"This counts, doesn't it?" Tony asked Steve without really caring about the answer.

"No, not really."

"Um, guys," Bruce said hesitantly, interrupting the two before it became a full-blown fight. "I think we should have JARVIS examine this."

Tony sighed. "Bruce, you're missing the point of this. You're supposed to guess what's inside. Having JARVIS x-ray it would defeat the purpose."

"Tony, please," Bruce said, looking straight into the billionaire's eyes.

A few moments passed with them staring each other down, but finally Tony relented. "Fine. I'll have JARVIS ruin my fun." He started speaking louder. "JARVIS, x-ray the package and tell me what's in it."

A red light washed over the box for a couple of seconds before vanishing. "Sir, it appears that there is an explosive device hidden inside."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank to all the peeps who reviewed :)**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Unfortunately.**

Everyone in the room froze, their attention fixed on the just-turned-menacing cardboard box lying on the floor.

"So, um," Steve started uneasily, "if there's a bomb in there, why hasn't it gone off yet?"

Bruce didn't move from his kneeling position. "It's probably wired to go off once someone opens the box."

Tony paled noticeably and gulped. "That – that's good to know."

Thor stared hard at the box, as if hoping he could burn a hole through it if he concentrated hard enough. No one would've been surprised if it had actually happened.

Natasha crossed her arms. "Then aren't we safe, as long as we don't open it?"

Clint was shaking his head before she even finished. "There's probably a timer on the bomb, too. In case we never got to opening it."

Bruce slowly got up and backed away from the package, sweat beading his brow. The rest of the heroes instantly followed suit, scooting backwards until they formed a large ring around it.

No one spoke, each person waiting for someone else to do something. Then Steve and Tony both stepped forward at the same time. "I can try to disarm it," Tony said at the same time as Steve said, "I can get it away from here." They both glanced at each other somewhat angrily.

"Tony, it's too risky," Steve began. "I don't know a whole lot about bombs, but one of the things I _do_ know is that disarming one is dangerous. And I doubt that's changed since World War II."

"Oh, yeah, and you think you can just cart it away and be done with it?" Tony replied heatedly. "We don't know when this thing is gonna go off. It could be in a day, or maybe in a couple of seconds. What if it goes off while you're still holding it? Your super serum won't be helping you much then!"

Thor placed himself between the two, who were almost chest-to-chest. "I will take it away," he rumbled. "I can fly faster than any of your little pinochles."

Clint raised an eyebrow, attempting to stifle a laugh. "What, exactly, are 'pinochles', Thor?"

Thor looked baffled. "You do not know your own language?" At everyone's strange look, he explained, "Pinochles, those small metal transportation devices on wheels. I got hit by one. Twice." He nodded, as if in affirmation.

Understanding dawned on Natasha's face. "You mean _vehicles?_"

Thor furrowed his brow. "That is what I said."

Clint snorted in laughter, but shut up when Bruce started talking. "No, Thor can't fly it away. We can't risk the bomb getting hit by an electrical charge. We can't try to disarm it, either. If this is homemade, which I'm guessing it is, then cutting the wrong wire would make it blow."

Tony's face turned hard. "So you're saying our best plan of action right now is to have Cap take it away?"

Bruce hesitated. "Well -"

Steve picked up the box, his face devoid of all emotion. "Okay, where should I take it?"

"No," Tony said, shaking his head vehemently. "No. You're not doing this. You're our Captain."

Steve straightened, making himself look taller than he actually was. "That's _why_ I have to do it. A good captain protects his soldiers. I'm protecting mine."

Tony had a sudden urge to bash his head against a wall. "You can't protect us if you're dead, Cap!"

Suddenly JARVIS's voice caught everyone's attention. "Sir, if I'm correct, the bomb is going to discharge in less than ten seconds."

There was no hesitation. Steve dove for his shield that he hadn't bothered to move from the living room and slammed it over the box, pressing down on it with all his strength.

Then it exploded.


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, thanks to everyone who reviewed. You guys make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything, except for my imagination, which sometimes isn't necessarily a good thing.**

Tony slowly awoke, his head a pounding mass of pain. _Aw, dang,_ he thought crossly. _I'd better have had one heck of a time last night, 'cause I'm not sure this hangover is worth it._ He slowly cracked open his eyes, involuntarily wincing when a beam of bright sunlight hit them. He tried to raise his arm up to block the unwanted light, but his body's shriek of pain stopped him. It hurt to even _think_ about moving his right arm. Twisting his head to the right (slowly), he managed to concentrate on the blurred shape in front of his face. His arm. Or, more specifically, the long, bloody gash on his forearm.

Wow. Last night _must_ have been one heck of a time.

He blinked, the dark and somewhat fuzzy shapes around him finally coming into focus. The first thing he noticed was that he was not in his bed.

The second thing he noticed, somewhat dejectedly, was the gaping hole in the side of the living room, the floor, _and _the ceiling. At least he knew where the sunlight was coming from.

The next thing he noticed made him think his observation skills were a little off, because it should have been the first thing he saw. Chunks of the ceiling cluttered up the floor while a filmy screen of smoke drifted up from the charred remains of what used to be his wall.

_That _was when he remembered the last thing that had happened. The package that wasn't actually a package but a bomb, Thor playing pinochle (well . . . he wasn't quite sure how trustworthy that memory was), Bruce explaining the mechanics of the bomb, Steve getting on his nerves . . . .

His blood ran cold. _Steve._

He instantly struggled to his feet, his eyes frantically searching the room with three-and-a-half walls for a familiar mop of blonde hair.

He didn't find any blonde hair, but he did locate a mane of red hair in the corner. He slowly made his way toward the spot of color, the throbbing in his head making it hard to avoid the huge obstacles surrounding him. When he reached the female assassin, he bent down and shook her shoulder somewhat gently. "Natasha." Despite the few cuts and bruises on her face, she looked to be in good shape. Hopefully the same could be said about everyone else.

She groaned and said in a surprisingly clear voice, "I have a license to kill."

The next time Tony shook her, he was a few feet away from her body, ready to bolt if she made a move for his throat.

This time she fully awoke, instantly on the alert. "Tony? Where are the others?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't know. I need your help looking for them."

She looked him up and down, her lips turning down in a frown. "No, I can do it by myself. You need to sit down."

"No," he said curtly, and turned away to find the rest of the Avengers. There was no way he was going to sit back and relax while his friends were in danger.

He idly wondered when the Avengers had crossed the line of "colleagues" and had become "friends". But he didn't have time to dwell on that thought, because a low moan caught his attention.

He crouched down and carefully removed a large slab of drywall away, revealing the curled-up form of Clint. "Hey, Clint," he said, trying not to let his worry show through. "You all right?"

In response, Clint's arm snaked out and punched him.

Tony fell back on his butt, letting out a groan. Once he made sure his tailbone and jaw were merely bruised, not broken, he snapped, "What the _heck_ was that for, Barton?"

Clint climbed out of the small hole of ceiling pieces he'd been in, favoring his left leg. "I needed to make sure you were real. You actually sounded concerned for a second there, dude." He held out a hand for Tony to grab.

The self-renowned genius grabbed the offered hand and hoisted himself up. "And that gives you the right to punch me?"

Clint shrugged. "I don't see why not." When Tony glowered at him and raised his own fist, Clint held up his hands in defense. "Hey, now, I think I twisted my ankle. You can't hurt a wounded citizen. That's just uncivil."

Tony shoved him. "Does it look like I care?"

A Thor-like shout distracted the two from their friendly squabble. "WHO DID THIS?"

"Oh, dang," Clint muttered. "We may have a problem."

Tony and Clint both turned to see Thor stagger to his feet, an angry gleam in his eyes. "SHOW ME THE MAN WHO DID THIS," he bellowed, "AND I WILL MAKE SURE HE NEVER ATTEMPTS TO DO IT AGAIN."

"All right, big guy," Clint said reassuringly. "But first we have to find Bruce and Steve."

The mention of his lost friends shut Thor up, and he instantly began scouring the wreckage. Well, he shut up about hurting anyone, and instead was hollering, "BRUCE! STEVE!"

Tony knew it would take them several hours to find them if they were still unconscious. And a voice in the back of his mind was whispering, _What if they don't have several hours?_

"JARVIS," he said, hoping beyond hope the computer still worked. "Bring me my metal bracelets."

"Right away, sir," the automated voice replied.

Clint coughed, trying and failing to cover up a laugh.

Tony threw his hands up in the air. "What could be so funny at a time like this, Barton?"

"Why," Clint paused as a set of giggles erupted from his mouth, "do you want jewelry at a time like this?"

Tony's face colored. "I couldn't think of a better name for them," he muttered sullenly.

"Here you are, sir," JARVIS said as a panel in the wall opened up, revealing two metal rings.

Tony yanked them out and slid one on each hand before pressing them against each other. Instantly his red and gold ensemble enveloped his body and Tony found himself relaxing inside the familiar surroundings of his computer-programmed suit. "JARVIS, use the heat sensors."

The whole world instantly turned dark blue-black through his iron mask. He turned to his right and saw a bright red figure standing next to him. "Clint," he said.

The red figure crossed his arms. "What?"

"Follow me. If -" he stopped. "_When_ I find someone, you have to help me move all the debris and what-not."

Clint saluted. "Gotcha."

Then Tony turned and scrutinized the room. Opposite of him were the two red figures of Thor and Natasha, but just behind them he could see a glimmer of another heat-filled object. "Thor, Natasha," he said loudly. They looked over at him. "I think there's someone behind you."

Thor turned around and grabbed the first piece of drywall he saw and flung it behind him, causing it to sail out of the hole in the wall and crash onto the street below.

"It's Bruce," Natasha informed Clint and Tony. "He seems fine, just knocked out."

Tony couldn't stop his sigh of relief. "One down," he muttered to himself. Then he scoured the entire room, Clint limping behind him. Nothing.

He didn't want to admit that fear was beginning to rise up in his chest. Fear that when he found the Captain – because he _was_ going to find him – he'd only be finding a body.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he cast one more glance around the room – and saw a blotch of red peeking out from under a pile of rubble. His heart racing, he peered closer at the crimson splotch, realizing he was looking through the hole in the floor. _Of course,_ he thought, mentally face-palming himself. _He was literally on top of the bomb, so he would fall through to the next floor._

Ignoring Clint's yells of "Tony, I can't follow you down there!" he zoomed through the opening in the floor and landed next to the biggest pile of debris. "JARVIS, I want normal vision back." JARVIS complied, and Tony realized the red object he had seen was actually an arm, sticking out of the boulder-sized pieces of ceiling. "Thor!" he shouted. "I need some help down here!"

Thor was at his side in an instant, lifting up and chucking away chunks of drywall like they were pebbles. Soon they uncovered Steve, blood matting his hair and dripping down the side of face, a misshapen piece of metal embedded in his side. Despite that, and the fact that his eyes were closed, Tony felt relief flood through his veins.

He was alive.

Suddenly the Captain stirred. He mumbled something Tony couldn't understand, but he caught the word "Peggy" once. Whatever _that _meant.

"Cap," he said, bending down and lightly tapping his non-bloody cheek. "You awake?"

Steve sluggishly half-opened his blue eyes. "Wha?" Then he seemed to fully wake up. His eyes went wide and he pressed himself back against the hunk of rubble behind him, his breathing fast and heavy.

Well. That was odd.

Tony leaned back a little. "Cap?"

Steve was staring straight at him, but no recognition was present on his grimy face. "What _are _you?" he whispered, almost in awe. Then his eyes narrowed. "Is this one of Schmidt's new weapons?"

Tony was at a loss for words. "Um, Steve, remember? I'm Tony."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to know that name?"

"Dang it," Tony muttered crossly, turning away from the confused hero. "Just what we need. A leader who's stuck in the 1940's."

**A/N: I've only seen _The Avengers _once, so I'm sorry if I got Tony's bracelet-thingies wrong. I can't remember exactly how he activated them.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Awwww thank for all the reviews, guys. You make me so happy haha.**

** BM originally: Thanks, and of course I'll give you bonus points! And for being that age, you get virtual pazookis, as well. (Pazooki = a melted chocolate chip cookie with ice cream heaped on top.) You should really find out who Leo Valdez and the Doctor are, though . . . they are quite amazing. :)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Marvel, there would be more shirtless scenes in _The Avengers_ than Matthew McConaughey in all of his movies combined. So . . . no, I don't own Marvel.**

Steve sat on his bed (or at least, a bed the others had _claimed _was his), warily watching the five people in the room. He'd refused to let them bandage the small wound in his side, since a) it was already starting to heal and b) there was no way he trusted any of them enough to let them try.

The one who had been in that metal contraption, Tony, he said his name was, kept staring at him when he thought Steve wouldn't notice. And he kept making a bunch of sarcastic comments that didn't make any sense to him, which earned glares from a couple other people and a punch from a red-haired woman whose clothes were so tight Steve couldn't even bring himself to look at her.

Then there was this massive giant with shoulder-length blonde hair. He was dressed in clothes that did _not_ look like they belonged in this century, and he was holding a huge hammer in his right hand. A bit worrisome, but none of the other people in the room seemed fazed by it.

To his left sat a calm-looking man with dark hair and eyes, a pair of glasses set on the bridge of his nose. He looked the kindest and least-threatening out of all of them, even though every time he looked at him Steve felt like he was being studied.

The last man had brown hair and narrowed eyes that tracked his every move. But there was also a hint of laughter in the guy's face, like he thought of everything as a game.

"So," Tony said loudly, interrupting the uncomfortable silence, "what's your diagnosis, Dr. Banner?"

The kind man with glasses glanced at Tony sharply. "I don't know yet," he said in a mild tone of voice. "I'll have to get blood samples."

"Does this really have anything to do with his blood?" the woman asked.

Dr. Banner frowned. "Amnesia is a strange thing. The brain hasn't been fully explored by scientists yet. So no, I don't think his blood has anything to do with it, but it can't hurt to check."

Steve was getting sick of everyone talking about him like he wasn't there. "Amnesia?" he asked.

All of them, with the exception of the man who was already looking at him, turned their heads to gaze at him. The woman traded a glance with Dr. Banner, but Tony either didn't notice it or ignored it.

"Steve," he said, his brown eyes staring directly into Steve's blue ones, "what is the last thing you remember?"

Steve furrowed his brow as he thought. "Getting on the plane with Schmidt." And kissing Peggy just before he jumped on, but that was personal. It was not something he was going to share with a bunch of strangers (not to mention possible enemy soldiers) he'd just met.

Tony let out a huff of air. "Wow. This is going to be tough to explain. You see, you -"

Dr. Banner started speaking loudly over the other man. "Don't you all have something else to do right now?"

Everyone seemed to get the not-at-all subtle hint but the blonde giant, who looked around confusedly as the narrow-eyed man practically dragged him out of the room. "But I do not have anything to do," he tried to protest.

The man "escorting" him out rolled his eyes. "Yes you do, Thor. I'm sure it'll all come back to you out in the hall." Then the door shut behind them.

Steve found himself relaxing once everyone but Dr. Banner left. The atmosphere seemed to match the doctor's personality now – calm and almost serene. _This could be a tactic for Schmidt to get information out of you,_ a voice in the back of his mind reminded him sternly.

"Steve," Dr. Banner said gently. "What I'm about to tell you is going to sound . . . impossible. Crazy, even. But I swear to you, everything I'm going to say is true."

Then Steve's mind was blown as Dr. Banner began talking. By the time he was done, Steve was trying to decide whether or not the good doctor was simply someone who needed to take lessons in creating believable lies, or he was actually insane and believed the story.

Or he was telling the truth. But that would be ridiculous.

"So you're trying to tell me," Steve began, his voice building in volume, "that I crashed into an iceberg, but miraculously survived, and was frozen for seventy years inside the plane before some agency found me? And then, once I woke up, I helped save the world with you guys?"

Dr. Banner looked uncomfortable. "Yes."

Steve was incredulous. "And you expect me to _believe _that?"

"Um . . . I guess not." The doctor shrugged. "But it's the truth."

Steve opened his mouth to tell him how Schmidt needed to work on some better interrogation methods. Then he stopped himself. He needed this doctor to think he was on his side. Normally, he'd just knock him unconscious and make a run for the door, but several things stopped him from doing just that. First of all, he knew there were at least four other people (who all looked like they knew how to kill a man) somewhere in the building. Secondly, he really did not want to hurt Dr. Banner. He seemed sincere and harmless, and Steve couldn't bring himself to lay a finger on the guy.

He needed to sound believable. _Maybe all that work spent being a performer wasn't for nothing._ "Can – can I have a few minutes alone?"

Dr. Banner's surprise showed on his face. "Uh, sure, I guess." Then he left the room.

Once he was alone, Steve put his face in his hands, trying to look depressed and confused all at once, in case there were hidden cameras in the room. After a few minutes in that pose, though, he leaped up and ran over to the window. He didn't know why Schmidt would keep windows in his interrogation room, but he wasn't sticking around for answers. Taking a deep breath, he slammed his fist into the glass.

_Oooow._ There was a lot more resistance in the window than he thought there'd be. But the second time he struck it, it broke with a loud shatter.

Barely even noticing the many cuts on his hand, he clambered out onto the sill of the window and looked down. It appeared that he was only on the second floor of the building, which drew a sigh of relief from him. He could make that jump easily.

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. No soldiers were rushing through the door, which was as good as it was going to get in Steve's book. Without further ado, he took a deep breath and jumped.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks a TON for all the reviews, guys. You Internet people make me feel so loved.**

**Disclaimer: *huge, drawn out sigh* NO, I do NOT own Marvel. Or _The Avengers._ Or my two favorite Chris's in the whole entire world. (A.K.A. Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans.)**

"Well, that's just great," Tony grumbled to himself as he stood in the middle of Steve's room. "Our stuck-in-the-1940's Cap decides to take an afternoon stroll in the middle of twenty-first century New York, and we still haven't found out who bombed us. Things couldn't get any worse."

The team had rushed toward Steve's room as soon as JARVIS had alerted them all that Captain America had broken a bullet-proof window and jumped outside.

"Actually," Clint said, "things could be much worse. We -"

Natasha and Tony said at the same time, "Shut up."

Bruce rubbed his temple, worry lines creased on his face. "Our first priority right now is to find Steve and bring him back here. The bomber can wait."

His teammates nodded and Tony decided to take charge. "Bruce, you'll stay here in case Captain Amnesia comes back. The rest of us will spread out and search for him. And I mean," here he flashed his smug, trademark grin. "How hard can it be? We're looking for a superhero."

Very hard, it turned out to be.

Tony thought he would just be able to ask people on the street, but it turns out not a whole lot of people recognize the Captain without his star-spangled suit. _Worthless citizens,_ he thought irritably after asking the twenty-third person if they had seen Captain America. _We save your hides a bajillion times and you can't even _recognize _us when we walk by you? _By now dusk was beginning to envelop the world (or at least, New York City), so that meant Cap had been on his own for at least five hours. "Have you guys found anything yet?" he asked seemingly thin air.

The mic in his ear crackled as Thor bellowed, "I have not found Steve Rogers yet, Man of Iron." Tony couldn't help but wince as his eardrum was assaulted by the hammer-wielding Asgardian.

"Nothing," came Natasha's curt reply.

"Same," Clint drawled.

Bruce's mild voice was next. "Haven't seen him anywhere near the building."

Tony sighed. "Check in every half-hour or so."

The figuring-out-where-Steve-went-by-talking-to-people tactic wasn't working out so well for Tony, so he decided to try a new strategy. "Okay," he mused to himself. "If I were the Cap, and I think that it's still 1940, but I start walking around and I realize it's obviously _not_ 1940, what would I do?" The answer "get drunk" came to mind several times. Which was absolutely useless, seeing as the Captain did not have the capability to do just that. No, he'd go somewhere quiet and reserved, away from people and away from technology.

Then, suddenly, he knew where Steve was.

-S-T-I-L-L- -A- -L-I-N-E-

Steve sat on a small bench, his head leaned back as he gazed up at the surprisingly small amount of stars, twinkling into the gloom, fighting off the oppressing darkness with their small pinpoints of light. A cool breeze brushed against his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake and drying the blood coating his knuckles. He'd scraped them up sometime after the fifth punch to the brick wall he'd been facing at the time. He'd known it was stupid – _who in their right mind decides to fight a brick wall? _–but he had really needed to release his emotions into . . . something. And preferably not a person.

This world scared him. He'd usually never admit that to anyone, including himself, but he felt like this was an acceptable exception. This world had things he'd never seen before. There were huge square boxes built onto the buildings that acted like regular (ginormous-sized) televisions, but they had color. Almost every single person he'd passed by had had a small rectangular-shaped object in their hand, and they'd been _talking_ to it! And then they'd pretended it answered back!

He was still staring up at the stars, but he could hear someone slowly approach him. The park had been virtually empty when he'd first seen it, so he had immediately headed over to it. He'd figured no one would try to bother him.

He lifted his head off the back of the bench to see a figure standing in front of him, their face hidden in a shadow cast by the fake glow of a street lamp. "Hey, Cap."

Steve squinted into the darkness. "Tony?"

The man nodded before sitting next to him on the bench. Tony opened his mouth to say something, but Steve beat him to it. "So was . . . was he telling the truth?"

Tony glanced at him quizzically. "He?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, which was decidedly sore after star-gazing for so long. "Dr. Banner. He told me that this is seventy years after 1940." He looked straight at Tony. "Was he right?"

Tony nodded again. "Sorry, kid." Then suddenly his eyes narrowed as his gaze fell on Steve's hands. "What'd you do to your hands?" he exclaimed.

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. "I beat up a wall."

Tony snorted in laughter, but quickly tried to control it by schooling his features. "That was – that was extremely dumb of you."

A grin broke out on Steve's face. Then his eyebrows drew together and his lips pursed in a frown. "Tony?"

Tony eyed the other man warily. "If this is a moment where you're about to dumb all of your pansy feelings on me, tell me now, so I can, you know . . . _leave._"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Are you like this all the time?"

Tony puffed out his chest with pride. "Of course. It's how the ladies like it."

"Hm," Steve said, pretending to think. "Then the ladies' sense of good taste must have changed for the worse since my time."

Tony gasped in mock horror as his chest visibly deflated. "You take that back."

Steve laughed lightly. _Maybe this place isn't so bad, if I've got friends like this._

**A/N: I know, this chapter was pretty pathetic, but the story's not done yet. They still haven't caught the mad bomber and all that jazz.**_  
_


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow. You guys don't know how excited I get when I read your reviews. Thanks a ton :)**

**Jelsemium: Hahaha when I read your comment I laughed out loud at my own stupidity. I'm so sorry. I am terrible at History, and was never a huge fan of it. Also, I kind of figured even if there were elevators in WWII, they weren't as high-tech as Tony Stark's. I'm really sorry if that bugged any of you. I'm just not very good at History haha. I can tell you the story behind George Washington's picture, when he's in a boat, sailing down the river . . . but that's about it.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned _The Avengers_ I would have made at least five other Avenger movies by now. Just sayin'. **

Once everyone was back at the Avenger's Tower, Tony had them all introduce themselves to Steve.

"Natasha," the female assassin said, extending her hand to shake Steve's. Steve awkwardly took it, looking down at his feet, trying to avoid looking at her clothes.

The blonde giant stepped up and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. "I AM THOR, THE GOD OF THUNDER."

Steve managed to wheeze, "That's great, Thor. You wanna let me breathe now?"

After Thor released him with an apology, the narrow-eyed man shook Steve's hand. "I'm Clint. But you call me either 'Master' or 'Sith Lord'. You follow me everywhere and do whatever I tell you to do. You adore me and -"

"Okay, Clint," Natasha said, taking his arm and leading him away.

Dr. Banner gave him a wave. "Bruce."

Tony whispered to Steve conspiratorially, "There's this 'other guy', but we're not going to introduce you to him just yet." Then he started laughing.

Bruce glared at him. "You think you're hilarious, don't you?"

Tony grinned. "Duh, 'cause I _am._"

Bruce sighed before changing the topic. "I was doing some research while you were out looking for him," he nodded in Steve's direction, "and I think I know who bombed us."

The Avengers' mood change was instantaneous. Everyone zeroed in on the doctor as he continued. "I've never heard of him, but I know where he lives."

As soon as he told them the address, everyone but Steve and Bruce began bustling around, grabbing their weapons. "Am I coming?" Steve asked no one in particular.

Bruce shook his head. "I don't think it's safe until you get your memory back."

"I can still fight," Steve counter-attacked.

Tony suddenly stepped in. "I don't see why not, Bruce. Like the kid said," he shrugged, "he can still fight."

Steve cast a grateful look in the billionaire's direction, but he was too busy staring at Bruce to notice.

"Fine," the scientist relented. "He can go."

Steve felt relief flood through him. It was obvious the other Avengers had held some level of respect for him, even if he couldn't remember it, and he felt the need to prove himself to them. To show them that he was worthy of being respected.

"You coming anytime soon?"

He looked up to see Clint (Sith Lord?) staring at him impatiently, so he quickly grabbed his shield. "Let's do this."

Clint grinned. "Well, if your memory never comes back, at least we'll be able to live with the comfort that your cheesy lines have."

-D-O-N-'-T- -B-L-I-N-K-

They stood outside the door of the attacker's house, although Steve couldn't help but think it looked more like an abandoned warehouse. Natasha and Clint, the most stealthy of the team, had gone behind the house to sneak through the back door. The rest of them (himself, Thor, and Tony) were waiting at the front of the house, ready to blast the door off its hinges. "Why didn't Bruce come?" Steve whispered to Tony.

Tony, who was now dressed in his red and gold suit, explained quietly, "We only take him on the big missions. This 'mission' definitely does not require Dr. Banner."

Steve wondered if they were talking about the same mild-mannered doctor. "_Bruce_ Banner?"

Tony chuckled. "I'll explain later." Then he turned to face Thor. "Ready?"

Thor grunted in response and hefted his hammer.

Tony looked at Steve, as if he was waiting for something.

"What?" Steve hissed.

The billionaire sighed through his mask. "I'm waiting for you to give the word."

Steve wasn't uncomfortable with being given the task of the leader. In fact, he welcomed it. "Go."

Thor roared and smashed his hammer into the door, with acted as though it was made of toothpicks and shattered. Tony and Steve rushed in, their attention focused on the man sitting up in his bed, his eyes wild. "What the -" Then his eyes narrowed. "I thought that bomb put you out of commission!" he snarled at the three. He grabbed a remote control lying on his dresser. "Luckily, I am more than prepared for this."

Tony shouted, "No!" as the man pressed down on a button.

The floor of the house shook, knocking Steve off-balance and causing him to stumble to the wall. Thor took a few shaky steps back, his eyes glaring murderously at the man.

"He's got a bunch of mines set up underneath the house!" Natasha's far-off shout reached Steve's ears just before an earth-shaking crash did.


	7. Chapter 7

**You reviewers just make my day. I want you all to know that.**

**Disclaimer: Have you seen _Avengers 5_ yet? Then no, I don't own Marvel.**

The force of the blast flung Tony against a wall, but he was protected from serious injury by his suit. _Seriously?_ he thought crossly. _Blowing us up _again? _Very original._

"Thor!" he shouted.

Almost immediately, the god of thunder bellowed, "Yes, Man of Iron?"

"Cap!" he tried to get his leader's attention.

Terror gripped his heart when no one answered. _Not again._

Before he could thoroughly look through all the rubble, Clint yelled, "Tony, he's headed toward you!"

Tony was torn between searching for Steve and grabbing the bomber before he escaped. Then a figure ran right by him, his identity masked by the smoke. Tony quickly made his decision. _What're the chances of Cap getting buried in an explosion twice in one day?_ His sarcastic inner voice supplied an answer. _The same chances as Cap _being_ in an explosion twice in one day._

He ignored the voice and flew after the figure, who had by now run through one of the many holes in the walls. Once he was clear of the house and the smoke, he could see that the person he was chasing was indeed the bomber. He put on a burst of speed and grabbed the man by the waist, tackling him to the ground.

Tony heard his teammates pile behind him. He turned his head to make sure they were all there and not missing any vital body parts, but froze.

Behind the Avengers, he could see the house collapsing in on itself, the walls and roof crashing down. And all of the Avengers were accounted for . . . except for one person.

He tried to shout, to scream for the others to save Cap, but the words got stuck in his throat. He lunged toward the house, momentarily forgetting about the bomber.

Hands held him back, and he heard Thor ask, "What is wrong?"

Tony nearly sobbed. "Cap's in there."

Silence fell over the small group of people, and they all turned as one to face the now-collapsed building. "No," someone breathed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Natasha bowing her head in respect, her eyes closed. Clint's fists were clenched in anger, but his eyes revealed the sadness he was really feeling. Thor's hand was tightened around his hammer, a fire alight in his blue eyes despite the blood that dripped down his chin from a gash on his cheek.

Tony felt rage build up inside of him, overwhelming the depression that threatened to engulf him. He fell to his knees, his fingers digging into the soft soil. _My fault. I should've looked for him instead. I should've refused to let him go. My fault._

Although he felt partly responsible, Tony knew the real killer was the man who had planted the mines. The man who had pressed the button. The man who was not . . . here anymore . . . .

Tony whipped around to see the bomber sprinting away.

_No,_ he thought fiercely, preparing himself to rocket forward. _He's not getting away._

Before he could move, though, something whipped through the air and slammed into the fleeing escapee, knocking him to the ground. Tony looked back over his shoulder to see if one of his teammates had done it, but they looked just as puzzled as he felt.

Then a figure stepped forward and caught the object as it returned to him. "I got him," Steve said cheerfully as he strapped his shield onto his back.

The rage and depression dissipated almost as quickly as they had come over Tony, and the sudden release of emotions nearly drove him to his knees again. Cap was safe. Cap was not dead.

Thor, of course, was the first Avenger to react to Steve's "Lazarus Move". "STEVE ROGERS!" he bellowed, reaching his side in two huge strides. "YOU ARE ALIVE." Then he wrapped him in a bear-like hug.

Steve's hands scrabbled at the Asgardian's back. "Not for long, if you keep this up," he coughed out.

Thor held on for a few more seconds, then finally let go of the gasping superhero.

Natasha stood in front of Steve, her eyes meeting his. "It's good to see you, Cap," she said, her voice betraying nothing.

Steve smiled a little, obviously finding humor in something. "You too, Natasha."

Clint clapped Steve on the back. "I'm glad you're not dead."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Uh . . . you're welcome?"

Then Tony reached the Captain's side. "I knew you weren't dead," he said offhandedly. "Just for the record."

Steve grinned. "Really? 'Cause it looked like you were about to bust someone's nose off a few minutes ago."

Tony scowled behind the mask. "Well, that was because . . . I, er, stubbed my toe in the house . . . ."

"Of course, Stark," Steve said, shaking his head. "If anyone was going to find a way to stub their toe inside a metal suit, it would be you."

Tony didn't know why that comment sounded so . . . different. So unusual. Then it hit him. "You called me 'Stark'."

Steve frowned. "What, did you change your last name overnight?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "I never told you my last name after you went all 1940's on me."

"That's right," Steve mused, "you didn't." Then he seemed to be waiting patiently for Tony to do something.

And Tony did it. "Cap got his memory back!"

As the other Avengers flooded the man, Tony stepped back and watched from afar.

Steve was not dead. Steve got his memory back. _Ah,_ Tony thought, satisfied. _Now that the world is back to normal, it can continue revolving around me._ Which was just the way he liked it.

**A/N: I'm really sorry if it was a cheesy, abrupt ending, but there's this plot bunny bouncing around inside my head and I can't get it out no matter how many generic soldiers I send up there to kill it. I think it's the Rabbit of Caerbannog, but I can't be too sure. I don't want to get too close.** **So again, sorry for the chapter.**


End file.
